St. Peter's Umbrella Part 11

"Never."

"And what became of the masons? What did they come for?"

"I don't know."

Gaspar smiled pleasantly at the man.

"You are like 'John Don't-know' in the fairy tale. He always answered, 'I don't know' to everything that was asked him. Of course you don't know the two witnesses either who could establish your innocence? In that case, my good fellow, you're no better off than you were before."

"But I do know one of them."

"What is his name?"

"Oh, I don't know his name."

"Well, how do you know him, then?"

"He has three hairs at the end of his nose."

"Rubbish! He may have cut them off since then."

"I should know him all the same by his face; it is just like an owl's."

"And where did you pick up the two masons?"

"They were mending the wall of the parish church."

By degrees Gaspar Gregorics got all particulars out of the man; and now the ground seemed to be burning under his feet, so he went straight into the town to look for the man with the three hairs on his nose.

It was not difficult to find him, and at the first place he asked at, three voices answered at once:

"That must be Andras Prepelicza. His mustache made a mistake, and grew on the top of his nose instead of on his lip."

After that it was mere child's play, for every workman knew that Prepelicza was "building Pest," as they expressed it. He was working at a large house in the Kerepesi Street.

Gaspar immediately had the horses harnessed, and drove to Pest, not stopping till he reached the capital; and there he set to work to find Prepelicza among the Slovak workmen. The mason was just going up on a pulley to the third story when he found him, and Gaspar shuddered as he thought: "Supposing the cords were to give way now!"

"Hallo, Prepelicza!" he shouted. "Wait a bit, I was just looking for you. I want to have a talk with you."

"All right," called out the mason, examining the newcomer from above.

"Come up if you want to talk."

"You come down to me, it is very important."

"Well, shout it out, I can hear it all right up here."

"I can't do that, I must speak to you in private at any cost."

"Good or bad?"

"Very good."

"Good for me?"

"Yes, good for you."

"Well, if it is good for me it can wait till the evening. I shall be down by then, but I want to finish this top window first."

"Don't argue, but come down at once. You won't be sorry for it."

"Why, I don't even know who you are."

"I'll send you word in a minute."

And with the next pulley he sent Prepelicza up a nice new crisp ten-florin note. The man who took it up got a florin for doing so.

At the sight of this novel visiting-card Prepelicza threw down his hammer and trowel, and with the next pulley returned to his mother earth, where miracles have been going on ever since the time of Moses.

"What can I do for you, sir?"

"Follow me."

"To the end of the world, sir."

"We need not go as far as that," said Gregorics, smiling. And they only went as far as "The c.o.c.k," a small public-house, where they ordered some wine, after drinking which, the wily Gaspar began, smiling blandly:

"Can you speak, Prepelicza?"

The mason began to wonder what was going to happen, and looked long and attentively into the steely gray eyes of his new acquaintance, and then said guardedly:

"A jay can speak, sir."

"I am from Besztercebanya."

"Really? There are very decent people there. I seem to know your face too, sir."

"You probably mistake me for my half-brother," said Gaspar. "You know, the one who had the caldron put away so secretly."

"The caldron!" Prepelicza's mouth was wide open from astonishment. "Was that your brother? Now I understand where the likeness is, at least ...

I mean ... (and he began to scratch his ear doubtfully). What caldron are you speaking of? I can't be expected to remember every pot and pan I have seen in my life."

Gaspar was prepared for such hitches as this, so was not surprised, and offered the mason a cigar, which he immediately wetted to make it burn slower, then lit it, and began to drum on the table like a man who has just found out that he has something to sell, and has the right purchaser before him. Now he must be as phlegmatic as possible, and the price of the article would rise in proportion.

His heart beat loud and fast, and the white c.o.c.k framed on the wall above the green table seemed to awake to life before his eyes, and to crow out these words: "Good afternoon, Andras Prepelicza!

c.o.c.k-a-doodledo. You have luck before you! Seize hold of it!"

"What do you say, Prepelicza, you don't remember the caldron? What do you take me for? Do I look like a fool? But I daresay in your place I should do the same. This wine is very good, isn't it? What do you say?

It tastes of the cask? Why, my good fellow, it can't taste of mortar, can it? Here, waiter, fetch another bottle of wine, and then be off and leave us alone. Well, what were we speaking of? Ah, yes, you said a short time ago that the jay could speak, and that is quite true; you are a wise man, Prepelicza, and the right man for me, for we shall soon come to terms. Yes, the jay can speak, but only if they cut its tongue. That is what you meant, isn't it?"